More songs by Raq baby
Description
Main Artist: Raq baby
Producer: Benzodidthis
Producer: Trenchmadedat
Composer Lyricist: Brian Bedford
Composer Lyricist: Adam Meigs Rubama
Composer Lyricist: Federico Luongo
Lyrics and translation
Original
Here you go, fucking ignoring me and shit on too much dirty.
Uh, young nigga shit, I swear it ain't really too hard to see what I been -through. -You motherfucking playing?
I'm not even -fucking playing with you, man, though.
-Uh, young nigga shit, I swear it ain't really too hard to see what I been through.
We ain't got it, give me that, pull in your card to see what your gin do.
Backdoor a nigga, try to boy, he ain't getting too far, lil' nigga, I'm mental.
Yeah, we made it out, bought my niggas some shoes from the store, they still expensive.
Yeah, why would I walk out the house without a pistol? It's essential. Leave it, they'll miss you.
Huh, he ain't did nothing, find a reason, they'll flick you.
Youngins on DT running down Cleveland trying to get you. Uh, yeah, hop out when I'm sliding the rentals.
Yeah, I done it and shit, yeah, I been one. Walk off, I'm having paid back not to get one.
Don't know what he talking about, we tear him down.
Asking what type of Janies, they twenty-one. I'm spending on all, yeah, been fun.
In the cycle, be damned if my kids going. Yeah, say what you want on RBs, you a real one.
Yeah, uh, please go get your brother, young crew do not feel nothing.
Little bro got a quarter, can't wait to go drill something.
Wait 'til after dark, we ain't trying to make no more kill on him.
He keep talking about Larry Splunk, whole time I really never said nothing.
I ain't finna beat my keyboard with no nigga, just hold that, keep his head up. Keep mentioning my name in songs, lil' nigga,
I'm fed up. Hit his bitch ass with that fire, make a nigga man up.
Gotta mention me to blow up, if he don't, he know it's over.
Must not know that shit expired, no more meat, he leftover.
Before the rap, I been shooting, might glee, gon' be a murder scene. False nigga better stop playing like my money ain't green.
I swear it ain't really too hard to see what I been through.
We ain't got it, give me that, pull in your card to see what your gin do.
Backdoor a nigga, try to boy, he ain't getting too far, lil' nigga, I'm mental.
Yeah, we made it out, bought my niggas some shoes from the store, they still expensive.
Yeah, why would I walk out the house without a pistol? It's essential. Leave it, they'll miss you.
Huh, he ain't did nothing, find a reason, they'll flick you.
Youngins on DT running down Cleveland trying to get you